


Reinforcement

by D4tD (dance4thedead)



Series: Save Steve [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky is a shameless shipper, HYDRA Trash Party adjacent, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Shitty handjobs FTW, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, sharing is caring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 21:29:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16941066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dance4thedead/pseuds/D4tD
Summary: In which the Bucky is amazingly well adjusted, the Asset is mostly adjusted, and Steve learns he needs to get his shit together for everyone's sake.





	Reinforcement

**Author's Note:**

> Here be your blanket Hydra Trash Party warning. 
> 
> HTP Adjacent meaning... if you're looking for a party, this ain't your kind of party. But if you weren't looking for a party, caution: trash ahead.
> 
> Also... smut-adjacent(?) Don't get your ~~dicks~~ hopes up.

It felt like being woken up by a bucket of cold water. It felt like being tossed into the driver's seat of a truck already barreling down the mountain.

It was daytime, winter, around hour 1300 by the sun. They were in the middle of a raid on an office building, and chatter in his right ear shrieked exactly how the mission had become a complete shit show in the last few minutes.

They had lost visual on the target when he ran back into the base. Then a member of the Asset's support team, his handler, broke formation and made a beeline after the target.

The Asset sighed, since his new protocols stipulated that he was supposed to extract any team member, even when the ones that made strategically dumb moves. He also had that urge to shoot him, somewhere nonvital of course, but his new protocols stipulated that he shouldn't hurt any of his team members while on a mission, even if they deserved it.

He abandoned his rifle and dashed after his handler, hurdling over rails and taking the stairs three at a time. 

He caught up to his handler in a hallway of cubicles. The Asset saw barrel of the S-32 come around the corner and aimed at his handler's head, before the man could get his guard up. Before the Asset had a clear shot of hitting anything that would guarantee the target wouldn't pull the trigger on reflex.

This handler's life took precedence over his own. There wasn't an order for it, but some latent architecture carved into the foundation of his being, beneath his programming, knew that it must save this man.

So the Asset pushed his handler with his left hand, hard. Sending the man's broad body sideways through a false wall, and then some.

* * *

The Asset came to outside the building, laid out on the snow. Two of his team members stood over him, including the one that he had raised a hand against.

"I don't know, Nat. He was himself before the mission started. I didn't see him slip," his handler said to the other operative.

"Captain." The Asset said, to alert them that he was again awake and functional.

"Status?" the handler asked, hopefully.

_It's me, you jerk_ , is what the Asset wanted to say. Knew that that's what Bucky would say and that it would make his handler surge forward and kiss him. But the Asset was not permitted to lie.

"Ready to comply," the Asset responded sadly, distantly.

His handler's face fell.

* * *

The ride home was almost completely silent. His handler kept glancing at him, sheepishly. 

The Asset was on edge with tension. Handlers who were afraid of him often over compensated by using more force than necessary.

And this handler usually was kind to him, but he never understood. He over complicated things and got emotional and goddammit, the Asset just wanted him to give in.

But Steve was the only person the Asset could never get a lock on.

The van pulled to a stop. Steve tapped his comm.

"Give us a second, Sam."

The Asset stared at him, expectantly.

"Soldier, do I need to cuff you to while we relocate from here to our quarters?"

Bucky swallowed, anxiously. "No, sir."

"Sam Wilson is with us. What are you current protocols regarding him?"

"Sam Wilson is not to be harmed," he responded in a flat voice. "Sam Wilson is to be treated as a handler, however discretion is differed to Bucky Barnes when Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers issue conflicting orders."

Steve gave him an off look, likely trying to work out exactly how that contingency would play out.

"Alright, let's do this," Steve said, throwing open the door.

* * *

They got to Steve's apartment slowly. The Asset dragged his feet to delay the inevitable, but soon enough, all three of them were past the threshold. 

Sam grabbed leftover takeout from the fridge while Steve ordered the Asset to sit on the sofa.

Steve crouched down in front of him, hands white on his knees.

"Let's get this over with, Soldier," Steve began, picking his words carefully. "Do you remember why you blacked out today in the field?"

The Asset looked frantically around, to Sam, distressed and searching for a suitable answer. "I-"

"Answer me."

"I hit you," the Asset forced out meekly. "I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry-"

"Steve," Sam warned.

Steve gave him a nod in acknowledgement.

"You hit me, but it stopped me from being a lot more injured than I could have been if I took a bullet."

"I wasn't supposed to hit you," the Asset gritted out. "Violence against handlers is not permissible. Violence against handlers is punished by a wipe."

Steve looked like he was breaking, but the Asset couldn't help if those were the facts.

"Hey man, we don't do that anymore. No more Chair, remember" Sam said gently, popping down beside him.

"You don't need the Chair." The Asset's breath was hitching between words. "You could make me go away. Forever."

"We're not going to do that. You and Barnes take turns, remember?" 

The Asset glanced at Steve, nervously.

"Bucky comes back when you're ready. Steve isn't going to force him to come back before then."

"He's not gonna believe that. He's gonna freak out the moment you leave the room," said Steve, anger edging into his voice.

"Switching who's on top isn't a punishment," Sam explained firmly.

The Asset nodded dumbly. Then he leaned forward and grabbed on to Steve's flies, burying his nose into Steve's crotch.

"Whoah, whoa..."

Steve grabbed both of the Assets hands and dragged them off of him. "No." Steve didn't break eye contact, but plead, "Sam?"

"Heya, why did you just do that?"

"I'm sorry. I thought... I thought that if going away isn't punishment, then punishment could be..."

"Buck, you don't need to be punished-"

"I'm not Bucky!" the Asset nearly screamed. Sobbed. "Please, I'm sorry, I just... can you just do it already? Get it over with?"

He locked eyes with Sam, who nodded. "Okay. Okay."

"What?"

Sam stood. "Steve, go get an ice pack, then stand over on that side of the room."

"But-"

"Steve."

"It should be me," Steve protested weakly.

"Go," Sam ordered.

Steve did, slowly. Worrying his lip.

The Asset tracked Steve leave and return, Sam going fuzzy in his vision as the he tried to disassociate from what was about to happen. The bed he made.

"Once this is over, it's over. Like, what you did is forgiven, forever."

"Understood."

Sam twitched like he felt Steve's eyes boring into him. He sighed deeply. "Twelve certifications," he muttered, before raising a hand and backhanding the Asset across the face.

The Asset felt his cheek burn slightly as it started to swell. Steve rushed forward with a bag of peas, murmuring ' _it's over, it's over_ ,' gently like a lullaby.

The tension drained from the Asset's body. He was himself, still, or as much as himself as he ever could be. It smarted, but he could still think through the pain, it didn't reduce him to the pathetic, feral state he was too often pushed to.

In this punishment, he felt like nothing had been taken from him.

"That's it?" the Asset whispered, shocked. Dazed. "I broke protocol."

"You did it to save me. Bucky needed you to bail me out of from doing something stupid, and you saved me."

"I broke protocol because... you."

"Because Bucky asked you to," Steve corrected gently, holding the bag of peas to his face.

"No, me. I chose to. For you."

Sam chose that moment to return with the nuked takeout, shoving a white box into the Asset's hands before continuing to inhale his own lo mein.

The Asset thought he caught the hint of a smile on Steve's face.

* * *

"I spoke to Bucky," Steve said later that night, when it was just the two of them in the bedroom, the mattress bouncing slightly as Steve rose from the bed. "Thank you for letting me talk to him."

"Did he say anything about..." the Asset wasn't sure if he wanted to ask what was on his mind.

"Well, he cursed me out pretty thoroughly for running off alone. And he said he was glad it was Sam hitting him this time, instead of Natasha."

The Asset smirked.

"I can change that protocol, if you'd like," Steve offered, settling into the arm chair in the corner. "I trust you not to hurt any of us on a mission, unless you really have to."

"Did you talk to Bucky about that, too?"

"...No."

"Obviously. I bet he wouldn't appreciate waking up from being repulser blasted if I get confused about which side I'm fight for on the field."

The Asset catches Steve about to say 'You won't,' before stopping himself. Steve grimaced, and the Asset knew it was because that was still a very real possibility. He was a liability.

"I don't like that you feel like you have to be punished afterward," Steve finally said in earnest.

"It's just negative reinforcement," the Asset said with a small shrug. "It's necessary."

Old Steve would have fought that point, argued until he was blue in the face. But those points were like vibranium on vibranium.

"You could..." the Asset said softly, hesitantly. "Positive reinforcement, instead."

"What, like let you cut up some Hydra scum for sport after a good mission?"

"No, I mean..." the Asset shivered. "After a good mission, you touch me?"

Steve tensed.

"Like you touch him," the Asset quickly added.

Which didn't help at all.

Steve looked like he was going to puke. Like he was even closer to taking two steps forward and punching a hole in the wall than when they first got home. Like he was about to wrap a hand around the Asset's throat for saying those blasphemous things, mash his teeth in.

The Asset's heart pounded and his hands flashed open on his knees, telegraphing surrender. Submission.

"I'm sorry," the Asset tried to amend, gears free-spinning backwards. "The old way is fine. I didn't me to-"

"Stop." Steve said. "You're imprinting on me. You don't really want me to do that."

"I-"

"Stop." Steve said. Then he fled the room like it was on fire.

* * *

"You're a fucking idiot," Bucky announced the next morning with a huff, as soon Steve joined him in the kitchen.

"Nothing new," Steve said, swiping a glass from a cabinet. OJ from the fridge.

"I relinquish autonomy to save your ass, and I wake up this morning sleep-deprived, thoroughly convinced that you hate me, and that you'd prefer to let your friends slap me around than to treat me right."

Steve made some half-hearted gesture of defeat at the fridge door. "I'm sorry. He came on to me. Twice, I think?"

Steve glanced at Bucky, who was laughing himself into a fit, and scowled. "How can you find that funny?"

"He has good tastes," Bucky said, eyes glinting above his coffee mug as he raised it to take a long sip.

"So what's your hang up, Rogers? I know you're sweet on him. And don't you dare say me, punk, because I've got nothing against you touching me more than you already do."

"It's not right!" Steve stammered out. "He's... not all there... I can't even trust him to say 'yes' and 'no' to things without thinking he's somehow being coerced and actually hates it and I-"

"Steve. C'mere."

Steve sighed, plunking down on to the chair next to him.

"I'm gonna jerk you off with my right hand."

"You- what?"

"Put the juice down, Stevie, before you spill it or break the glass."

"I'm trying to have a serious conversation here."

"And I'm trying to give you a serious demonstration. If it's not something you'd like to do, tell me to fuck off."

Bucky watched emotions flirt over Steve's face while he considered it.

"Fine," Steve conceded. "I'm all yours."

"Okay. I'm gonna jerk you off and that's all we're gonna do. You don't have to try to impress me or nothing."

Steve couldn't help but smirk.

"If I do something you don't like, you have to tell me what to do differently."

"That's not gonna work with him, Buck."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow, before darting a hand forward and down into the waistband of Steve's pants.

Steve panted, half-hard and twitching when his dick hit air, squirming hot and heavy in Bucky's still grip.

"Bucky. Bucky..." he gasped out.

"Hm, yes?"

"...you just gonna hold it?"

"Sure." Bucky reach over with his left hand for his coffee. He flexed his right hand, then rippled his fingers to squeeze down enough to drag a low moan from Steve. 

"This... isn't funny."

"Should I fuck off?"

Sweat was beading up on Steve's forehead. "No. Just-"

"Just what, Stevie?" Bucky asked, sweetly innocent as he slid his palm up, dragging moist skin, and pressed a thumb against the head, into the phlegmy pool of precome.

Steve's hips jerked forward off the chair on reflex, just as his eyes fluttered shut and his breath hitched.

"What do I need to do differently, Steve?"

Steve's mouth fell open, but nothing intelligible came out.

Bucky pinched down on the head with his thumb and forefinger, hard.

"Aah! Fuck! Fuck off, Bucky!"

Bucky instantly let go.

Steve's dick was hard and straining, and Steve was gripping the arms of the chair, glaring at him.

"What's your point?" asked Steve, breathing heavily through his nose.

"There's a difference between needing to stop and needing to do things differently. He knows that line, and if he doesn't tell you to fuck off, that's on him."

"But-"

"You treat him like he's fucking dense, Stevie," Bucky said, reaching out again and curling his fist around hot skin, lazily jacking him off. 

Bucky went on reminiscing, "Or made of glass. Remember how pissed you were when I treated you like that, way back when?"

Aside from soft breaths, Steve went curiously silent while Bucky worked him over sweetly. 

"But the guy broke out of Hydra with an eighth of his brain working. He thinks and he wants. He's clever and he's been through a lot more than you give him credit for," Bucky continued, giving slight twists and drawing delicious ovals with his thumb. "Been through things that he's said 'fuck off' to, and no one listened."

Bucky pursed his lips together in stoic concentration, the way he always got when he spoke of his time in bondage.

"But even after surviving that, he trusts you to stop when he needs you to stop, to do things a certain way when he needs it." 

His hand fell away and he looked dead at Steve. Let his guarded self be vulnerable.

"And if it'll make both of you less miserable, why you gonna hold out on that?"

Steve nodded, solemnly.

Then Bucky surged forward and Steve met him halfway, capturing Bucky's lips.

Bucky's hands flew up into Steve's hair, clutching at strands.

Steve moaned into his mouth, twice, and then convulsed violently as he came hard on both their shirts.

Steve came back to himself slowly, slumping back into the chair and breaking out into a soft, breathless chuckle. "That's the worst handjob I've had since the thirties."

Bucky snorted, reached across the table, and drank all of Steve's orange juice.

**Author's Note:**

> Credit were credit's due, this fic drew a good deal of influence from SkyisGray's epic [Ipseity](https://archiveofourown.org/series/118750) series. It's awesome, go check it out.


End file.
